Cleaning Up
by leapylion3
Summary: ...or Dreams and Nightmares. Clint and Natasha share a rare, quiet and comforting moment. Not much plot. Super fluffy.


Hi! :D So this is my first Avengers fanfic...I've been a part of the fandom for awhile, and I felt that it was necessary to write fic for it. So boom. This baby was born.

Hopefully I'm not too OOC...I always find it hard to write Clint and Natasha.

Thanks to Charlotte K and Rogue Striker for the betas! Love y'all!

Enjoy! Don't hesitate to drop a review!

* * *

**_Clint_**

After our few moments of glory, we finally realized just how much we had to clean up. Sure, we'd won, but now what? Loki and his tricks were back in Asgard in some sort of mental or correctional institute- maybe a mix of the two. And who knows what the hell happened to the Chitauri; the attack stopped so suddenly. Once Thor and Loki went back to Asgard, the rest of us were left to face and deal with the aftermath of the disaster. Not only did we have to help the innocents and the victims of the attack, but we had to help _ourselves_.

We were trained for assassins and spies, not for monsters and magic. Hell, we _were_ assassins and spies. We were trained to kill. We claimed to be the good guys, but we killed, too. No matter how good we claimed to be, none of us were as pure and saintly as people thought. No, everyone had some red in their ledger...some more than others.

Especially me and Tasha.

Maybe that's why we got along so well. We knew what it was like to be controlled. We knew what it was like to fight on the wrong side. Anything you did, any move you made, it all added more of that red to the ledger. One act that _you_ think is noble, another will think pure evil.

And now, even though we're on the so-called 'right' side, there are always some people who think that _we're_ the evil. That _we're _the ones who deserve to be punished. I'm not gonna lie and say that we're all saints and that we _are_ good and pure and perfect. I don't even know what side is the right one. Hell, no one will ever know the real answer.

At the sound of footsteps, my hand instantly goes to the gun under my pillow. I was always cautious- being in the superhero business, you learned things. Before the whole Loki deal, I used to keep a gun on my nightstand and that was that. Now, there's one under my pillow, in between the mattress and boxspring, and a last one in the drawer of the nightstand. Of course, my bow and arrows are under the bed in case it comes to that, and I have a knife tucked into the waistband of my boxer shorts.

"Relax, Barton," Her silk voice sounds ever so slightly amused.

I relax visibly, my fists unclenching and my heart returning to its normal, steady pace. "How'd you get in here?" I let out a small chuckle; I can't admit that I'm surprised because, honestly, I wouldn't expect any less from Natasha. With her sharp wit and brain, unbelievable attractiveness, combat expertise and strategic skills, there isn't a place in the world that the Black Widow can't infiltrate.

"It wouldn't be any fun if I told you," She pouts, grabbing a chair from the other side of my bedroom. "You know I never give away my secrets,"

I silently stare at her in the dark room for a few moments. I run my fingers through my messy hair and sigh. "Either you somehow hacked into my security settings and changed them, or you found another entrance inside," I quirk up an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"I guess you're half right," She shrugs her shoulders, a slight smile on her full lips. "You forgot to close your window,"

I laugh. A real, genuine one that hasn't made its way past my lips in the longest time. "I've known you long and well enough to know when you're lying,"

Tasha chuckles softly. "Fine. I tapped into your security settings,"

I lean back on my elbows. "Picked up a few things from Stark, eh?" Although I outwardly tease her about him, I can't help but feel a stab of jealousy whenever she mentions him. Obviously, I'll never admit that to her; no matter how close we are, we made a silent agreement to never let emotions get in the way of our partnership. I knew that she'd gotten hurt before, and vice versa. Now that the Avengers Initiative was finalized and executed, we have even more reason to continue and carry on with the agreement.

Another shrug. "You could say that,"

"What're you doin' here?" I ask, resting my hands on my bare chest. I resist the urge to turn on the light; I always liked to look at her when she spoke. The darkness seems to make everything distant, cold and meaningless.

"Couldn't sleep," As if on cue, Natasha stifles a yawn with her hand. "Haven't been able to for awhile, actually,"

"I know," I admit, staring at the dagger poking out of the waistband of my boxers. "Nightmares, right?"

"How did you-"

I lower my voice and flick my eyes up to meet hers. "I hear you screaming at night," I hesitate for a moment and tear my gaze away. "I've never heard you like that before. What do you dream about?"

Romanoff brings her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knees. She stares at the floor in silence for what seems like an eternity. "It's the same thing every night," Her voice is so quiet, I can barely hear her. Trying not to cause any noise, I push myself off my elbows and sit up. "They're always about you," She swallows, visible even in the dark. Subtly, I move closer to the woman, hanging onto her every word. "When you were under Loki's spell. I keep seeing your eyes, but…" She shakes her head, her red hair flying in all directions. "Loki is in them. They're pale blue again, like…" Natasha trails off, an apologetic look on her pretty face.

"Like when I was being controlled," I finish for her. "You don't have to be afraid to say it," My cheek twitches involuntarily. "It's done now. I'm back-"

"But you still can't change what happened," She cuts me off, her temper flaring. Usually, Tasha was calm, cool and collected…you _had_ to be in this business. You couldn't afford to screw up. "Clint, you killed agents, you know. You almost-"

"I almost killed _you_. _I know_, Natasha," I raise my voice, my anger rising. "Do you know how much I hate myself for that? I can never forgive myself for that," I sigh deeply, expelling my acrimony with my breath.

"Don't take it out on yourself," Her voice is low and soft once more as she gets up from the chair. "It's not your fault, Clint. Loki wasn't anything we were prepared for," She sits next to me on the bed and puts a reassuring hand on my forearm.

I chuckle half-heartedly. "I think we had this conversation before," She offers me a small smile and I can see the pure exhaustion on her face. "I'm here, alright? Don't worry," I reach over and take her small hand in mine and give it a small squeeze. "Don't let those nightmares bother you anymore," Natasha gives a small nod, suddenly looking like a child.

The Black Widow rests her head on my shoulder and wraps an arm around my waist. "I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life," She breathes. I crane my neck to look at her, accidentally brushing my lips against her temple in the process. She doesn't seem to notice. Instead, she closes her eyes and leans into my side, her breathing slowing down.

"Natasha?" I whisper, gently nudging her. She mutters something incoherently in response. A smile finds its way onto my face as I watch her; her lips are parted and her chest rises and falls steadily.

With utmost care, I wrap my arms around her waist and place her on the bed. Tasha lets out a small snore as I lie down beside her. I pull the covers up to our chins and intertwine my legs with hers. She shifts in her sleep and snuggles into my chest. My lips quirk upward and I plant a small kiss on her forehead. "Sweet dreams, Natasha."


End file.
